The Wolf of the Kingdom
by Exilo
Summary: Inspired by "Beauty and the Beast". A young girl searches for adventure in the forests. and finds far more than she could have hoped for. One-shot. Dedication. Reviewers get 3 cookies.


_**The Wolf of the Kingdom**_

___Dedicated to Calquendaani, may you always stay beautiful._

Once a upon a time, there was a child named Lynn. Lynn was a normal child, not unique in any way. She was not born of the greatest nobility, nor of the most smothering poverty. She was not the fairest maiden of all the kingdoms, nor the ugliest troll that ever sat beneath a bridge. She helped her mother with the daily chores and was taught by the town's head scholar in matters that concerned a youth, along with all the other children of the town. She learned many things, and was shown to be sharp of mind, though of course, not the sharpest. She was a child who loved to read, and so read she did. Countless books were devoured by her hungry eyes and bottomless brain. She read of the many wars her kingdom had been a part of, and the victory that was quite consistent. Of course, in school, she was taught to take pride in her kingdom. It was a grand kingdom, one of the smallest, and yet, one of the fiercest. It was her kingdom that was a gateway between the civilized world and the barbarian hordes of the south. For the past century, the barbarians from the south had tried again and again to conquer this kingdom as a stepping stone to their conquest of civilization. Again and again, they had failed.

"But why, teacher?" she asked one day, after class had ended and she should have been rushing home to tend to her nightly duties.

Her teacher was a tall, thin man, with a hook nose and long black hair that was kept tied into a ponytail down his back. His name was Hans, though she only knew that from her mother. He never allowed the children to refer to him by anything but an honorific. If he was called by anything less, they could expect a severe lashing from the cane he used to aid in his awkward walking. Still, Lynn was a good student, and rarely faced his wrath.

"You are not old enough to know," her teacher said casually.

"I am smart for my age though," she said. "Smarter than even the boys."

"It is not a boy's duty to be smart," Hans said. "It is their duty to be strong warriors to fight the hordes. Every man must fight." Hans's career as a soldier was something he rarely brought up, but was known to the children in one form or the other. He needed his cane after one of the barbarians crushed his left knee with a shield blow, and, no longer able to fight, he had begun to teach to better serve the community.

"All the books in the library only speak of our victories. None explain how we have lasted so long." Lynn cringed slightly. For what she said next, she could expect a cane blow, but it would be worth it. "We are a mighty kingdom, but small, and our enemies are many. So, how do we survive?"

"Size is not always what is most important," Hans said, not even lifting his cane in a threatening manner. "Those who watch only for giants, will be eaten by the ants."

"Ants," she said. "Plural. This entire kingdom is not the size of even a small barbarian city-state. I have seen the maps. But...we survive. And, I am proud of that. I am proud to be a citizen. But I do not understand how we survive."

Hans smiled softly. "Your desire to learn is admirable," he said. "This will be the last year I can teach you. You will go on to lead many with your pure heart and soul. But...there are things that we are better not knowing. Horrible, frightening things."

"This kingdom is like no other," Lynn said. "Even the barbarian know who leads them, but I have never seen our king."

"Nor have I, my dear."

"But...who led you into battle?"

"I fought many, many enemies, but only a boil sized fraction of the entire armies the barbarians have sent against us." Hans sighed. "You will learn with time anyway. And I see no reason why not to tell you now." He walked over to his bookshelf, and took one of the oldest books from the highest shelf. For as long as this kingdom has existed, it has been ruled by the de Hautdesert Royal Family. Generation to generation, they have lead us, guided us. And, a time ago, they often came to the towns to spread word of the victories on the front lines personally. I was but a lad when I first saw King de Hautdesert. Oh, the site of him. He was the greatest warrior amongst us, and held the throne for thirty years until his death at the hands of the barbarians. His son, Prince Charles de Hautdesert, took the throne, and continued to lead.

"He was young, nine years old when he took the thrown. An unprecedented circumstance, but one that occurred, for he was the last of the line. It was a huge weight to put onto one so young.

"There had never been a king so passionate about his people, nor a more horrific enemy to fight. He was called the Wolf of the Kingdom, because of his viciousness, and calm cruelty. He never pressed the barbarian, as his father had. He held the drawn lines, but any who crossed them, were crushed. He was a passionate king and a loving leader, but the things he did to the barbarian, even by our standards was horrific. When our metal supplies dwindled and the other kingdoms would not help, he took the bodies of the barbarians and made weapons from their bones and skin. When our crops dwindled, he ordered the barbarians used as meat. A great warrior, a great king who protected us, but...well, he was not all there in the head. And these blasphemous acts only angered the barbarians further, and so more were sent, and more were killed. And each time, the barbarians came in greater numbers.

"The barbarians grew angry. Losing campaigns to a grown king-warrior was respectable, common even. But losing it to a child, and for several years. I can only imagine their frustration, but when they could not conquer us with brute force, they turned to magic. It is said they sacrificed an entire year's new borns from throughout the lands to feed the dark hex they placed upon our king. The hex was powerful and horrific. It changed our great king from a man to a monster, and twisted his soul to a cruel mockery of what it had once been. Though he had always been vicious to the barbarians, he loved his people. But now…it would slaughter any without will or remorse. You have not seen our king, because we have no king. Only a monster."

Hans sighed a sad. "Now, it haunts the forest to the south, the monster who was once a king. Still, the barbarians throw themselves into the forest, hoping to conquer our kingdom, but they always are met by the monster. Those that make it through the forest, it is up to use to fight, but there are never so many we can't handle. A tragic twist of fate for us all. Though our kingdom continues to stand, we have no king to hold up our flag."

Her teacher had been right. There were things one was better off not knowing. Something about the story, it gripped her. Something about the thought she could not place. Something she felt inside. She went about her chores at home, and her school work. She was successful in her studies. But when Hans sent everyone home for the summer break, where they would usually have to aid their parents much more than during the year, she felt a chance. She assured herself that she would only be going for a single night. She would only ride her horse through the woods, just to see, to satisfy her wanderlust, her boredom. She would satisfy her curiosity.

Perhaps that was her greatest flaw. She was never satisfied with what she knew, she could always know more. There was always another book to read. Another story to uncover. She would never admit, but since that day with her teacher, her interest in the once seemingly bland woods had suddenly sparked. The woods had never even seemed dangerous. Of course, most of the battles and wars were fought in them, but so many miles away from her, she could never reach something interesting even after days of travel, so she had never bothered. But now, she had some hope for interest footsteps away. She promised herself she would just ride for the night, and be back in bed before first sunrise so her family would never be the wiser. She assured herself that in fact. She had decided that this was just a lie that her teacher had told her so she would stop pestering him, and when she told him she had investigated, he may cane her, but he would eventually have to tell her the truth.

So one night, just after sunset and her family had gone to sleep after an exhausting day, she went to work. She washed and bathed for a reason she could not place. She brushed her long, golden hair, dressed in clean clothing, and tied her azure hood around her shoulders. Lastly, she placed her trusty dagger onto her belt. Mounting Fairy, her white horse, she set into the woods at a speedy pace.

And for four hours into the night, her interest remained hungry. The woods were exactly as she had always thought they were: boring! Nothing but an endless forest. The woods did not even have wolves or lions, just the stupid deer she had seen wander into the town just to be killed, skinned, and cooked. It was a crushing revelation. But what had she expected? Bipedal wolves engaged in epic battles with six legged lions? Giant mules jumping into lakes like they were puddles? What was she really expecting? Whatever it was, it was not here. And she decided, after another few minutes, she would turn around. She had noticed a distant glimmer of light, and ever the optimist, she had hoped a few more minutes might prove fruitful.

And, the closer she grew, the more her hope swelled within her breast. After a few more moments of travel, the distant glimmer grew into a significant blob, and then she could just make out torches that crowned a castle's walls. She heeled Fairy gently, and the white mare sped her pace until she was galloping at a full speed.

Her excitement cost her dearly, as a sudden jump from Fairy sent her flying. It was not Fairy's fault. A large tree that had been shrouded in the darkness snuck up on both of them, and Fairy only thought of preserving her precious balance. If anyone was to blame, it was Lynn. And she knew that. It had been her fault for not riding properly, especially on a galloping horse at night. But all that really mattered was that she landed on her right arm, and a surge of sharp, blinding agony surged through her.

Perhaps she passed out, she wasn't sure, but her next conscious thought was of the large, wet, warm tongue that was licking her face. She opened her eyes, groaning, and found it was Fairy. Instinctively, she tried to stroke the mare, but a blinding pain again met her and caused her to scream so loud that Fairy backed away out of fear. "No, no. Fairy it's...oh god it's not alright, but you didn't do anything. Oh god, oh god. This is...oh dear god." Lynn panted a moment, catching her breath, then screamed out as loud as she could a call for help. But of course, who was there to help her? It was the middle of the dead of night, deep in the forest, and she was all alone. The hope that she would just have to wait for a searching party to find her was quickly abandoned. She...she hadn't told anyone she was out here. And why would her family look? At first they might just assume she had gone to meet with a friend. They would be so busy with their work, they wouldn't even take notice of her absence. And...Oh, what could she do? She didn't even feel she had the strength to stand. Looking to her legs, she cringed. Nothing "broken", but any number of lacerations and a few twigs and branches sticking rudely out of her flesh. "No," she moaned. "Somebody...help me!" she screamed, sobbing softly.

And as fate would have it, someone did. She did not immediately notice his presence. He made noise as he traveled: cracking of leaves and twigs, but she was sobbing loud enough that she didn't hear him. Instead, she felt his presence, but looking over her shoulder, she didn't immediately "see" him. It was because he was so massive, her eyes found it difficult to work out his shape in the darkness. But finally, she understood. "H-help me," she asked softly. The dark figure squatted down and gathered her into his arms, though, after a moment, he only used one arm to carry her. The other arm stroked Fairy's head, earning a sound of approval from the mare. He took hold of her reigns and gave her a tug, and she followed after.

Lynn whimpered. Every part of her hurt, and though it was not the man's intention, the rocking of her body in his grasp sent pain through her. It wasn't long before she passed out, this time for several hours.

When she woke next, she was indoors. A room made of stone, like the interior of castles. It should have been cold, but there was a roaring fire beside her. And she was in bed, under the covers. She quickly pulled those away.

Her arm was in a cast and sling, and her legs were bandaged. She stroked her lower appendages, cringing, but with the wood out, they already felt better. There was a minty smelling healing salve over her skin that didn't stop the pain, but at least dulled it to the point she could think.

Her clothing was folded neatly at the edge of the bed, and noticing it, she realized how massive this bed was. She was like a baby in her father's bed, and she assumed the only man who would need a bed of this size was the man who had saved her. It was not easy to dress, but she felt shameful without the coverings. Her shirt hung loosely on her shoulders, as she did not want to put her slung arm through the sleeve. Her pants were easier, and truth be told her legs were not in that bad of shape. Cuts and scrapes, yes, but there was nothing that would severly impeded her walking as long as she gritted her teeth.

And her dagger. It was not an heirloom. It had never been blessed by a priest or cursed by a devil. It was really nothing save a wavy edged, double sided knife. But she put it on the sheathe on her belt before she dared to exit the room. She felt safer with it.

Through the hallways, she walked. "Hello?" she asked out, and her voice's echo was the only answer. "Hello? Sir?"

In one of the castle's living rooms, she was greeted with furniture, again of a massive proportion. The armchair seemed like something that would be used by a bear. The table in the kitchen was higher than she was tall. But in one of the rooms, perhaps a library, she found the most amazing thing she had ever seen before. Above the fireplace, which burned a brilliant, magical emerald, she saw mounted on the wall the largest hammer she could have imagined. The simple act of lifting such a massive weapon to its place of reverence would have impressed even the strongest barbarian, but as she drew closer, she saw the signs of battle. Scars over the black steel of the weapon, the marks of any number of successful wars. To use a weapon like that in battle…

Though it was clear her host was not here, she lingered longer than perhaps she should have. Her primary thought should have been finding Fairy and making sure her loyal mount was alright. Then, she should find her host, thank him extensively for his hospitality, and request his aid in returning to her home so her family wouldn't worry. But at her fingertips were countless books. This...reading room in a castle dwarfed all the libraries she had visited in her life, combined! She had to see. Just one, that was all. But she had to see what were here.

Taking one of the books off the shelf, she read the title, but found it to be something she was not familiar with. The contents were handwritten in a crude, but legible fashion. It told a powerful story, one of grand battles and countless campaigns against demonic foes. She read it cover to cover, devoured its contents like a starving man does a meal. Another book was of a love story, a tragic one that made her weep slightly. These were not the historical manuals she was accustomed to. These fictional accounts, as far as she could tell, but accounts they were.

When the door to the reading room opened, she took notice, and looked to the door to see the great man who had rescued her. Though, still, she could not see his face, as he was wearing a heavy, concealing myrtle cloak, but she guessed it was him, as she guessed very few men would share his build. He was huge, easily nine feet, and wide as a chariot.

"I'm sorry," Lynn said, putting the book back on the shelf. "Forgive me. I did not mean to intrude upon your space, or read your books. I was simply curious." She bowed slightly. "I am Lynn. I must thank you for saving me. I fear, had you not come, what fate may have befallen me. And thank you, for tending to my wounds. But, please, I must ask, is my mount alright?"

"The mare is in the stable. You best take her and leave," said the large man. His voice was deep and solid, like fresh earth dug up during the summer season.

Lynn swallowed. "May I ask, how long have I been here?"

"Two sunsets."

"Then the sun has set now?"

"Yes," came the gruff, simple response.

Lynn sighed. "Please, I know I have no right to request further aid, but may I stay the night? I do not wish to travel in darkness again. I was a fool to have attempted at all."

It was like there was nothing beneath the hood of his cloak. Lynn squinted and strained her eyes, trying to see into the dark shadow, but the light in the room was dim at best, and he was still far away. "You may stay," he said softly. "But tomorrow, you must leave."

"May I ask my noble hosts name?" Lynn said sweetly.

There was a long pause. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the emerald fire, and Lynn's heartbeat, which she noticed had quickened dramatically. She found comfort in her blade, for though she did not view the man as a threat, despite his vast size, if he were a threat, she could defend herself. She was proud of her martial skill. She had learned from the men of the town how to fight, and had even bested some in sparring matches.

"You may not," finally came the response. And the large man gruffly left the room.

Lynn returned the other books to the shelf before hurrying out. There were multiple hallways for the man to go down, but Lynn listened for the sounds of walking, and found them to her right. Hurrying as fast as her hurt legs could go, she at last caught glimpse of the green cloak. "Wait," she said, and the man stopped and turned to see her. "I..." she said, catching up. "Thank you. I do not know why you would help me, but, whatever the reason, I am in your debt."

The large man again paused with his words, but finally asked, "Are you hungry?"

Lynn touched her stomach and nodded softy. Assuming she had been unconscious for two days, that was quite a time.

"Come with me," he said in the earthen voice. He brought her to the kitchen. To her embarrassment, she could not reach the dining seat, between its height and her wounded legs, but without asking the large man had taken her under the arms and lifted her up. His hands were strong and rough, and what she could see under the cloak that covered his arm slightly, he was unusually hairy. He placed her down in the seat, before taking some eggs from the cold box, and began cooking them over an open fire. When finished, he set them on a plate, and placed them down in front of Lynn.

"Will you not eat?" she asked, starving and staring at the tantalizing meal before her, but not wanting to be rude to such a generous host.

"I will eat when you have finished."

Lynn thought to herself. "May I have a fork?" she asked. The large man retrieved a fork from the cupboard, and passed it to her. He wore gloves. How strange. And the cloak covered his arms. But Lynn took hold of his outstretched hand and brushed the sleeve aside. It was not hair, it was too thick. It was, rather, fur. She looked up to her host. Formally, she bowed her head, and said humbly, "King Charles, I am honored to be in your presence."

There was a distinctly wolven growl, but Lynn sat there, unflinching. "What is your business here?" he demanded, slamming a shaggy fist upon the table.

Lynn winced, but was trapped in her chair. "My teacher, Hans Birch, told me about you."

"He should have warned you, foolish child."

"He tried," Lynn said. "He spoke of how much of a monster you are. He spoke of your history. Your ascension to the throne, and your ghastly displays against the barbarians. He spoke of how you...you...ate them. How you turned their bones to bludgeons. And now, how you haunt these woods. He spoke of how you...you would murder any who came, without reason or hesitance. And yet, here you are." Lynn sighed softly.

Charles growled softly. "Take your horse and return to your town at daybreak. If you ever come here again, I will kill you."

At daybreak, Lynn did that. When she arrived back at her home, her mother was worried. Lynn told her mother that she had gotten hurt when she fell off Fairy, but a kind woodcutter had nursed her back to health. As her arm would be in a sling for some time and she couldn't work, she could go back into the woods, from dawn till dusk, to spend time with the "woodcutter". She told them he was an old, lonely man who feared the large gathering of people. He was a veteran from many wars, but it left him slightly fearful. She went, and cooked and cleaned for him in a show of gratitude.

This went on for many weeks, even after her arm had healed. Every day, at the same time, she arrived at Charles's castle. He never stopped her from coming in, though he rarely directly talked to her. There were days where she read his many, many books; she had learned he had actually written them during his lonely years spent here. There were days she cooked him meals, but to eat he would have to remove his hood, and so he would not eat as long as she was in the room. There were days where he taught her how to fight, and though she was good with her dagger, he made her great. Some days, he wore his cloak. Some days, when he trained her to fight, he wore his armor. But she never saw him bare, and though her imagination ran rampant with what he must be hiding from her, he was adamant to not show himself in full. She was given glimpses: a green eye when his cloak slipped and the glow was just visible for a moment, a clawed hand when he forgot to wear his gloves. Something demonic, but, she could see his soul was far from malicious.

"Why do you keep coming?" King Charles asked her one day, as she walked to put Fairy in the stable for the day.

"Because you must be lonely, out here. Why do you hide out here? All alone?" But he would not answer.

Now in the kitchen, he went about preparing the afternoon meal. She asked again. "Why do you hide out here, your majesty? My teacher told me about how your father, and his father, made it a point to visit their kingdom. How, your father always led from the front of the armies. How your father was respected by his men, not feared as a demon of the woods."

"I am not my father," came the response.

"No, I never met your father. But I have spent much time here, with you. And you are not a demon. You've one of the kindest hearts I have ever known. I see all the maps of the forests and the traps you set up, your attacks against the barbarians. You keep them at bay. You protect your kingdom, not like a good king, but like a great king."

King Charles took the rims of his hood and pulled them back, reveling his face to the open air of the kitchen. Lynn flinched. "By god..." she muttered, and followed those words with any number of prayers as she took in his distinctly lupine features. He looked...he looked like the slobbering monsters in the fairytales she read. The wolf demons who ate babies and tore virgins limb from limb and raped whatever parts were left. He looked like the werewolves that haunted her dreams when she was young, that kept her up at night, crying in her father's arms. Her heart pounded. She tried to push against the table to escape, but in her panic ended up pushing over the chair, and she would have hit the ground had the wolfman not moved quickly and caught her. It was a caring gesture, one to protect her. Lynn still drew her knife and lashed at his arm, cutting a gash, but he refused to let go of the chair until she was righted and safe. When she was righted, he moved to the bucket of water and cleaned the blood out of his fur, and quickly tied off the open gash with a stretch of cloth.

"I-I'm sorry," Lynn said, fear still evident in her voice. She looked down at the table, in shame as much as fear to make eye contact with the great wolf. "But...please, I don't understand. None of this makes sense. You...you're not a monster, are you? Why would you save me? Why would you demand I leave? Unless...you can't control yourself? Is...oh god, is it a full moon tonight?"

King Charles looked over his shoulder, glaring fiercely. "What is Hans teaching you children?" Charles put his hood back on, and Lynn was able to look up again.

"Please...what...what are you?"

"You have come this far," the king said. "And you have stayed patient and adamant. You deserve the truth. This...this body, is not a curse that was thrust upon me by the barbarians. It was not a hex, done of vengeance or malice. What Hans said of my accession, was true. He was there to watch me rise. I was born to one day take the throne, but through all my teachings, I never dreamed of taking it so young. But when my father died, I had no choice. I had to take extreme measures to ward off the horde. I could never push into them, never crush them fully as they retreated lest I risk what few men I had. But those who came, drastic measures were required. A lesson for you, child. It does not always matter how many you have, it only matters the soul each posses. One wolf will slaughter an army of sheep every day. And slaughter we did, slaughter I did. To enter my kingdom, was to face the devil.

"But, the barbarians always had numbers. And, I was not my father. I could slaughter and maim but never lead as he did, as brilliantly as he did. I had the will to do the horrific, but not the brain to do the great. Drastic measures were required. A sacrifice was demanded."

"You did this...to yourself?" Lynn asked.

"I asked God for strength at any cost. And when he did not answer, I turned to the Devil, and was blessed."

Lynn started to breath heavy. She looked away, gathering herself. "How could you...?

"For my men, for my country, I would do anything. I have the strength to fight armies, and I do."

"But you're...you're a monster..."

"And my kingdom is safe. My people are safe."

Lynn lowered her head. "It's not fair. It's not fair. I...I'm so sorry." Lynn looked to her dagger, a sickness settling in her stomach.

"It's but a flesh wound."

"King Charles," Lynn said softly. "Would you show me again?"

The man paused, unsure, but relented, and again lowered his hood. There was a cringe in her eyes again, but she did not scream this time. "Come closer...please..." And he did, and soon lowered to one knee so they were eye level. "May I touch you?" she asked. And when he nodded, she stroked his furred muzzle as if to prove to herself he was real. "I'm sorry. It's not fair." He was not frightening, actually. He was not like the pictures in the books. His eyes, a soft, sweet emerald like the fire, showed signs of life and love. His brown fur was not ragged, but smooth and fine. He closed his eyes, apparently enjoying the soft feel of a hand after...how long had he been alone?

"Hans...?" Lynn asked.

"Bless him, his burden is as bad as mine. The people must never know the truth. You, child, must never tell them."

"But...why?"

"Because they would not understand," he said softly. "They would not understand this sacrifice. They would only see a devil's blessing, and leave, despite the protection I can offer them. I have taken months to show you what I am, and only know reveal my true form. I could not do that with many."

Lynn's eyes felt heavy. So much to take in. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her breath was coming in course measures. Her eyes were heavy. She pressed her head to his, gasping softly. "You...you're not a devil," she said softly. "Bless you, you're not. You're a guardian angel." She lifted her head, and smiled. "And I promise, as long as you allow me, I will come here. I will...not leave you alone."

King Charles nodded softly. That seemed...that seemed...he could not remember such a time, he felt happiness.


End file.
